Life: I won't fail you again
by SupremeDaikon
Summary: A time travel fic. Harry goes from powerful wizard to Master of Death to something much, much greater. But what's the cost, apart from distancing himself from every person? Albus P.W.B. Dumbledore, meanwhile, is constantly watching, wondering if Harry would turn out to be a Dark Lord as well... Super!Master-of-Death!Harry. Manipulative!Dumbles, Dumblebashing. Later WeaseleyBashing.
1. The end of all ends

**Life: I won't fail you again  
(Heavily Revised)  
**

A/N: This is my first fanfiction, please R&R. Rating – T, may change later.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the places, characters, objects, and other stuff created by Jo Rowling. I am writing this work for my own enjoyment and not form making bucks. I would appreciate reviews. Thank you.

Making things clear: **Bold text** will be used for languages other than English (like Parseltongue or an other language). _Italics_ , for the most part, will be reserved for emphasis. People think like 'this', and speak like "this".

Also, the nineteen-years-later scene did not happen.

Right, then. On with the story.

 **Chapter 1: The end of all ends**

The Dark Lord sat in a high chair in the dungeons of Malfoy Manor, Nagini draped around his shoulders. The only source of light was the flickering fire. The snake's face looked at the surrounding Death Eaters who sat on the floor, while its master's snakelike face looked in front, at their nemesis, Harry Potter. He was kneeling on the floor, as befitted scum like him.

He hissed in Parseltongue, **What did you think, Potter? That I was too scared to make more Horcruxes? When I found out about the Lestrange vault, I made sure to have** _back-ups_ **. So, I am still immortal,** **further than ever** **. I killed Rabastan and Rodolphus to teach Bella; but she has fallen for me, and I am not sure my message reached her. But no matter. Dumbledore was a fool. If seven is the most magical number, then twice that will have double the power! I have no qualms about killing and dividing my soul further, make no mistake! Your wand, I have broken. You will die, at my pleasure, the last Light wizard remaining in Britain. Your friends and mentors are all dead, Potter – do not look so surprised,** **my faithful followers have made sure to… dispose of those who would not swear fealty to me** **.**

Harry let out a strangled sob before composing himself. So the snake bastard had killed all his friends, had he, during his year of imprisonment? Images began to flash through his mind. _Ginny and Ron fighting._ _Ron intercepting the Killing Curse to save Ginny, Ginny doing the same for Harry before Harry's capture._ _Remus and Tonks, Fred, all the dead. Farther back, Dumbledore's death. Sirius falling through the Veil._ With a little difficulty he brought himself back to the present. In a short while he would see his beloved family. But now, he would stay strong in the face of death, and truly defeat Death that way. Experiencing so much suffering only made you wiser and stronger – like a certain white-bearded wizard he could name.

The high, cold voice of Lord Voldemort said aloud, "You are finished! The Elder wand cannot save you now, Harry Potter. Whatever I do to you, it refuses to come under my control. However, I have my old phoenix wand – while you are wandless, just like your father who died grovelling at my feet. You will die, alone in this world."

Switching to Parseltongue, he hissed, **w** **ith your** **death, I** **will** **create** **my** **fourteenth H** **orcrux, and** ** _your_** **soul will depart this world.** He switched to English. "Let it be known that Harry Potter, the boy who lived, has died, alone and friendless, begging for death – and that I, being a merciful lord, granted it him. But first – _Crucio_!"

Blinding, obliterating pain. It shut out the jeering of the Death Eaters, the laughter of Voldemort, the hissing of Nagini – even Harry's own screams. His muscles were being torn, fibre by fibre, his bones were being ground to dust, his organs liquidized, he wanted to die then and there, wanted it to stop – and then it was gone.

Harry saw a flash of green, heard a rushing noise – as though a protective eagle were shielding him from the monster before him – then all went black.


	2. Limbo again, and some revelations

**Chapter 2: Limbo again, and some revelations**

Harry awoke in the endless white expanse of limbo. This time he found himself fully clothed – in traditional wizarding robes. The same ones Molly bought him, in fact. Getting to his feet, he looked around himself – well, what had he expected? It was still blank. He felt a peculiar prickling in the back of his neck, like he was being watched. Trusting his finely honed instincts, he whirled around, hand automatically reaching for wand inside robe. To his surprise, he pulled out a long wand – the Elder Wand – and confronted the… _creature_ standing in front of him. It looked very like a Dementor – except that its hood was drawn back to expose a white, flesh-less skull; its robes were red, and it wield a gleaming, highly polished scythe.

Not knowing what else to do, Harry knelt – and the figure in red robes chuckled. "No need to kneel. I am Death."

"Wow. That must be _so_ enticing. Just go up to some dying person, and say, 'Hello. I am Death. Pleased to meet you. Are you pleased to meet me too? I thought so, yes.' Well, I am _actually_ pleased to meet you, _old friend_. Get on with it, then. Reap my soul, or whatever, with that scythe. Go on."

"Now, no need to be sarcastic, young master", said Death. I am here to give you a choice. You should have realized already that your body is not functioning anymore. You can come with me and continue on into oblivion – or you can go back and set it right. You see, I am in need of a champion. You were supposed to defeat that nose-less idiot, I said so myself to the Thestrals and the centaurs. You see, time does not pass here, and it does not help my–"

"Get to the point, _Your Honour!_ " Harry snapped.

"Right, right. So, you can go back and set things right, or you can 'die' die. What will it be?"

"Let me see", said Harry slowly. "What of the Hallows? What do they do when I go back? I tried to destroy them, but it's like – it's like they're immortal. And how will I go back?"

"Hmm, asking all the right questions, eh? Should you agree, I will send you back to your eleven-year-old body. The Hallows will return to where they were, though you will still be their master. Moving on, I have invoked certain special conditions upon your body – you are, simply put, not allowed to die. Hehe, what a surprise to old Voldy when he finds out that this stubborn little junior Marauder will just keep coming back? Mind you, this won't stop him torturing you. Next, any knowledge of the future is accessible only to you. No truth serum or mind arts can access them. And, as you are Master of Death, you should be able to invoke me when you feel like it – but I prefer not to be seen by Dumbledore, he might figure out that you're more than just a gallivanting time traveler. Also, if you are close to death, I will be able to call on you. So what will it be? Go back, or go on?"

"Back", said Harry decisively. It would be worth everything to see his friends and Ginny again. And Dumbledore – well, Harry was not going to be manipulated by that old –

Death interrupted his thoughts. "Language Harry! This is the Realm of Death, and I can read your mind. Do me a favor, okay? The Stone's a Horcrux; but as you are its master, it won't harm you. But still, liberate Voldy's stain from it. Dumbledore will discount the possibility that Voldemort will hide a Horcrux in the Gaunt Shack. So – should you – see you later!"

Death snapped his finger-bones, and Harry experienced complete oblivion once more.


	3. Back to Diagon Alley

Usual disclaimers apply.

A/N: I'm fifteen and have O.W.L.s to write, you know. Sorry I couldn't make it fast, but I'm trying.

 **Chapter 3: Back to Diagon Alley**

Harry suddenly retched. Head spinning, he lowered himself to the ground. He was almost completely senseless, but he could see that he was in a crowded place. Where was he? Hogwarts? If he couldn't regain himself in the middle of a battle–

"All righ' there, Harry? Here, let me help you." A genial voice, with evident care. _Hagrid!_ The last time he had seen Hagrid was when he sent Harry to his safety from Death Eaters with a Portkey, just getting caught with six simultaneous Killing Curses. There was no way he could've survived that. A weeping Harry was deposited at The Burrow with a broken flowery umbrella in his hand – Hagrid's last remembrance.

Shaking himself to the present, Harry held on to Hagrid's arm and regained control of his faculties. So he had actually returned. Huh. He felt for his wand nut didn't find it. He panicked.

Looking around himself, Harry realised that he was in Diagon Alley. It was his eleventh birthday. He could only assume Death had sent him to the exact second he was born. "It's okay, Hagrid, I'm alright. Why don't I get myself fitted for some robes, and you can get my – uh – Potions ingredients? Thanks," he added, and made off to Madam Malkin's. Sure enough, one little pale-faced blonde was already swaggerin' all over the place, while sitting on a stool. Harry decided that this time, he'd have to have Malfoy on his side right now. He didn't want a dying Draco Malfoy to apologize and make amends, no thanks; he'd like a friend better alive. Than, say, as a shade called by the Resurrection Stone.

They struck up a conversation about Quidditch while robes were fitted for them, and warned Draco not to try smuggling brooms into Hogwarts. Then Draco started talking about the Houses and how well he'd look in green and silver. Harry said, "Draco, why do you want to be in Slytherin?" The other muttered something about 'my father'. "Draco, listen, no one can control you. Not your parents, not your godparents, not your friends – but only yourself. Listen, Gryffindor is not just for blind fools. Hufflepuff will get you excellent connections. Ravenclaw – well, you know how smart you must be to be Sorted into Ravenclaw. Think on this, Draco; now it's time for me to leave. 'Ta!"

 _That went well._ Leaving one confused little pale-faced blonde waiting for his robes, Harry paid Madam Malkin ("Thank you, dear!") and joined Hagrid outside the shop. He found Hedwig waiting for him. Harry and Hedwig looked into each other's eyes, and _something_ seemed to shift between them. Harry understood that it was a true familiar's bond – Hedwig's loss was still raw in his heart, and his love for Hedwig seemed to react with Hedwig's love for him. Hedwig would never leave his side (ahem, shoulder) now – not that Harry would ever make her leave him. "I won't let you die this time," he whispered to her, and she looked at him with a funny twinkle in her eyes; Harry was about to comment on it, but just then Ollivander's wand shop loomed before him. "Hagrid, I want to do this on my own. Please?" Harry made his best puppy-dog eyes, and Hagrid, somewhat put off, said, "Alrigh', Harry. Yeh look migh'y like yer mother when yeh do that, yeh know. Then it's time ter get goin'. Here's yer ticket, Harry. Tata! See yer at Hogwarts!" Hagrid handed Harry his Hogwarts Express ticket. Harry thanked him, took his luggage and excused himself.

Harry entered the shop and found no one there. "Ahem; Mr. Ollivander," he called. The thin man spoke behind him, making him jump.

"Ah yes – Mr. Potter. I wondered when I'd be seeing you. It feels like it was only yesterday when your parents bought their first wands. Lily Evans – ten and three-quarter inches, willow, swishy. Made for Charm work. James Potter – eleven inches, mahogany, pliable – useful mainly for Transfiguration. And what–?"

"Mr. Ollivander, I have a question. If, say, I were to fashion a wand, would I be able to use it?"

"Yes, certainly. Provided you have no help in fashioning it. But why–?"

Mr. Ollivander, is it possible to fashion a wand with any core? Say, for instance, if I had a Thestral tail hair and elder wood, would I be able to make myself a wand?"

Ollivander grew confused. "Such a wand, though possible to fashion, is impossible to wield. Many – myself included – have tried fashioning such wands. Invariably, they all snapped the first time a wielder tried to use it."

"But why, Mr. Ollivander?"

"The Elder Wand is a delicate and unique instrument. The intricacies and finesse involved in wandlore," proclaimed Ollivander pompously, "are too complex and variable for a fledgling like you to understand. Yet, all of my wands are reacting to your presence. Full of mysteries, are you not? Perhaps when you are older, you may apprentice yourself to me."

Harry hastily changed the subject and asked where to find a wand.

A few minutes later, having procured a fine eleven-inch holly and phoenix feather wand ("Curious, very curious"), Harry exited the shop. Going back to Muggle London, he looked for a train back to Surrey.


	4. Hogwarts Again

**Replies to reviews:**

Doodlegirl1998 \- :-| This strays from canon more than just a little, you know.

The_Crazed_Rabbit \- I'll do my best to make the following chapters longer. I'll try, I swear it on my magic. ;-)

Usual disclaimers apply. Credit to Prithiv Solanki (prithivsolanki ) for about ½ of the chapter.

* * *

 **Chapter 4: Hogwarts Again**

After enduring another month with the Dursleys, Harry was back on King's Cross. The ride on the Hogwarts Express set things in motion like never before – this also meant that Harry's patience, calm and discretion were stretched almost too thin. Harry made Ron his "best mate" again. [Ron didn't pull out Scabbers this time – meaning Gred and Forge held a measure of pity for Ron yet. Harry wasn't sure he could have held it together if he had seen the rat.] He got to meet Hermione all over again, and this time, he wouldn't give her cause to desert him. [He had confessed his undying love for her, and it shook her so much she left him forever.]

Like an arrogant twit, Draco decided to butt in again – and this time Harry was diplomatic in sending him off. Neville, Harry, Ron and Hermione enjoyed a fun ride. Suddenly Hermione told them all it was time to change into their school robes; and then they were at the Black Lake. Hagrid escorted them all through the Black Lake, and they entered through the entrance into the Entrance Hall. There was McGonagall, standing tall as ever, ever the disciplined matriarch (though she would never show it).

The Sorting went on as Harry remembered it, except that this time the Hat took a good few minutes before putting a somewhat confused Draco Malfoy in Slytherin. Hermione went to Gryffindor, no surprise. Soon it was Harry's turn. Amidst all the whisperings Harry made his way to the stool, looking forward to conversing with the Hat. He put it on.

 _'Well, well_ _,_ _welcome back,_ _Harry. You have experienced terrible things, and worse trials are to come._ _What do I see? Tom Marvolo Riddle has subjugated all of Europe to his demonic rule? And Death himself has sent you back, has he? Interesting – master of death, immortal, much more_ _. Where do you wish to make your home? Gryffindor? Slytherin? Ravenclaw? Hufflepuff?'_

 _'Gryffindor, but I have a question. What did you mean by "_ worse trials to come?"'

 _'I have not the leave to speak of it – for now._ _But this time, we can be sure of things merrier at Hogwarts, for you have embraced your Marauder legacy._ _Well, l_ _et me be quick, then, for everyone wonders why I sit silent.'_ "GRYFFINDOR!"

Harry went back to the Gryffindor table ("We got Potter! We got Potter!"). He looked at Snape and smiled the same smile Lily had given him when he had gone into the Forest to "die". Snape was obviously puzzled – his eyes and lips widened, and his eyebrows flickered toward his hairline.

[A/N: Following part of the chapter written by Prithiv Solanki.]

Dumbledore, or Longbeard, as Harry had taken to calling him, finished his odd speech ("Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!"). Harry then decided to make his Marauder heritage show. Inconspicuously waving his wand under the table, he non-verbally Vanished McGonagall's pointed hat, turned her hair red, and unravelled her bun. Silently casting a _Sonorus_ charm on himself, he shouted, "QUITE CHARMING YOU LOOK TODAY, PROFESSOR MCGONAGALL!" This made the old witch flustered, and had the added attention of focusing the entire Great Hall's attention onto the old witch. There was one moment of pin-drop silence throughout the Hall – then everyone laughed, full-scale. Even Snape's mouth began twitching oddly. Seeing the funny side to it all, McGonagall started laughing too. Harry decided to banish any reservations and enlarged Longbeard's half-moon glasses before turning the old man's waist-length beard purple. Snape's teeth were actually visible now, but he was looking at Harry suspiciously. Who knew Snape could be such a charmer? Harry gave him Lily's mischievous smile (a sure-fire warning that things were going to hell), and began to dig in.

An enjoyable feast later, Harry was at the dorms, in his warm bed. He still had so much ahead of him, but who said he couldn't enjoy a nice sleep?

" _Kill the spare!" "Avada Kedavra!" Cedric lay dead, eyes blank and facing the heaven. Harry saw as Wormtail picked up the…_ thing _and dropped it into the cauldron. Lord Voldemort rose._

"You have failed everyone, Harry. Your parents, godfather, uncle, Dumbledore – everyone dead. Because of you. But worry not; I shall destroy you soon. _Crucio!"_

Harry woke up screaming. His hangers were wrenched open by a confused Ron. "You all right, mate? I heard you screaming..."

"No, Ron, it's nothing; just a nightmare."

"Ah, well – if you say so. Goodnight."

"'Night."

He should have expected it, thought Harry as Ron went back into a peaceful slumber. He had caused the death of so many innocents. It wasn't fair, Cedric was just _there_ , he needn't have died at all, Wormtail should g– That thought brought him to less pleasant matters. Sirius was languishing in Azkaban right now; this was all because of Dumbledore. Dumbledore wanted Harry to live with the Dursleys, so he just sent Sirius to hell on earth! This time around, he was, sure as hell, not going to trust Longbeard so implicitly. It wasn't time yet for Sirius to break out – Harry couldn't hate himself more – so the least he could do was make sure the man was well-fed.

But he turned himself away from those thoughts and instead focused on what prank to use the next day. In his previous fifth year, the Weasley twins had made that portable swap thing… but Harry did not want to steal their ideas. How about using that charm Sirius and James had use on Snape? He could do that to – say, Fred and George. Well, things were going to be interesting indeed. He fell asleep on those thoughts.


	5. Revealing

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 **Chapter 5: Revealing**

Harry opened his eyes and found that he was once again lying (floating?) on/in the shapeless white expanse of limbo. Getting to his feet or whatever you call it when you're in a sort of vacuum-like thing, he found Death standing (floating, whatever – Harry was going to choose one way and stick with it) beside him. The grinning skull's grin was smaller than Harry remembered.

"We meet again; I wondered how you managed to keep yourself out of trouble, Harry."

"Stop rubbing it in, old man, I don't even know what happened to me."

"In a magical school of magic, my eleven-year-old son was tragically stabbed in the neck with a goblinmade silver dagger imbued with the power of the Cruciatus Curse, and also Disarmed – for satisfying the legends – by a dark shadow possessing a weak body. Too bad for the dark shadow, the Elder Wand remains bound to you, and the Cruciatus affects you not. Too bad for _you_ , there can be only one wand of elder in existence at all times. But worry not, for all slumber yet and your wounds will heal the moment you get back. Now, seeing as time doesn't pass here, shall we have a nice, long chat? Ask your questions away"

"How am I here if Voldemort disarms me? Why can't you go reap Voldemort's Horcruxes by yourself? If I was killed and disarmed, why am I here? Isn't Voldemort master of the Elder Wand now? And why can't I make more Elder Wands? How was Dumbledore able to come back in the Forbidden Forest? And what did you mean, 'my eleven-year-old _son_ '? And am I dead for good now?"

"Ah, Harry", replied Death, "you demand answers to questions I cannot bear to answer; I cannot lay such a weight on you in good conscience – don't look at me like that, I don't have a conscience after all, I shall tell you all, my son.

First, an important matter. The Hallows have bound themselves to you. Meaning, even if you were disarmed, the Elder Wand would remain obedient to you. Once again, Voldemort has snapped your phoenix wand. It is high time you get my wand back from Dumbledore. Next, you cannot make more Elder Wands simply because you need a special brand of magic usable only the Lord of Death. Dumbledore was able to talk to you in the Forbidden Forest because I did not want you to face me yet – I could not anticipate your reaction. The old coot attempted to manipulate you even after he had passed on! Of course, I said you are my eleven-year-old son because you are, physically, though not mentally or magically, eleven. This means that the Trace does not work on you. Now you can make life at the Dursleys' more than bearable. Also Harry, do not just demand my wand from Dumbledore. His research has led him to the conclusion that the Gaunt Shack is the home of a Horcrux. I cannot lead him astray again, for, immortal as I still am, even I have to obey the Ancient Laws. Think on this, Harry; the Trace cannot track you. Also, rescue my stone immediately, please – there is a spell, much like the AK, that seers the soul from a mundane body – but, instead of sending in in to my realm, it assimilates that soul unto its essence, thus destroying the soul. Find the Thestrals, they thirst to meet the marked of Death."

Harry took all this in and seemed to shrink. The hallows had bound themselves to him. If he had to avoid tipping Dumbledore off, however, he had to wait till Christmas for the Cloak of Invisibility (he had learned the difference between that the an Invisibility Cloak from Xeno Lovegood). Suddenly he realised something. "I'm Harry James Potter, son of James Potter and Lily Evans-Potter; how can I be yours?"

He was sure that Death would have smiled at him had he flesh still. As it was, the grin lengthened. "Figuratively. Long ago, while I was still mortal, I had a family – three sons – my wife had died at the birth of my third. At this time, I was not invited to see to justice being carried out in the Realm of the Dead; I was not aware that an entity called Death even existed. Many years later, at my mortal passing, I was instituted into my current position by the Lord of Death at that time. A few years later, my then sons were scheduled for entry into my Realm (in the same day too, how rare do you know that is?). I sought to claim them by means of a river in spate. Using incredible spellwork, they saved themselves. I sought to reward them, and each of my sons asked for a gift. When my first named his gift, I broke inside. But I could not let them know that I was their father, so I proceeded –"

Harry clapped a hand to his forehead. "You're the Peverells' father!"

"Well enough, I say; I shall teach you to prepare the blade. Ready? There is no incantation, but the blade must be forged anew and it must seethed in freshly prepared Thestral blood – you can heal them later. Then it must be set into the jewel-encrusted wood of an elder tree – visit the Founder's Graveyard, inside the forbidden forest – you are Master of Death, you'll be able to get through the wards. The size of the metal does not matter, when the sword is active, it'll become the right size for you. Oh, and the blade must be cold iron – no, silly boy, not what you think, it must be pure iron. Cold iron means muggle iron, no enchantments upon it, easy enough to get. And as for – why, you little –!"

Harry had raised his hand, gleefully enjoying his rescuer-cum-mentor's predicament, he asked, "How was Voldemort able to create so many Horcruxes? Fourteen!"

"Theoretically you can create an infinite number of Horcruxes. Of course, a time will come when your magic is not enough to bind such a tiny soul shard to an anchor, but that is only if you have attempted to create one after you have crossed the limits of your power. While _mouldy_ may be many things, he is certainly not weak. Besides, he still has only seven now. On that happy note, let us depart! You have jobs to work on. Don't forget, be kind to the Thestrals!"

Death snapped his finger-bones, and blackness surrounded me.

Death was almost positive he heard his honorary son mutter, "Bye, Dad", but before he could ask, the boy vanished. Was it right for him to have chosen such a fate for him? The fact that Harry had the blood of the Lord of Death running in his veins could only make things easier, but how long to wait?


	6. Obscuring

A/N: I think its safe to say that from now on, chapters shall be in first-person, from Harry's point of view.

 **Chapter 6: Obscuring**

I woke up and saw a goblinwrought silver jewel-encrusted dagger apparating (for want of a better word) away. I gave myself two once-overs (so, a twice-over?). I saw that even the dried blood was fading into nothing. I was as good as new. I flicked my hand and mended my wand. Typical Voldy, underestimating the greatest of magics. The core was completely unharmed, and that was all that mattered (unlike the previous time – when I was seventeen, the feather was almost shredded). I wandlessly grew the wood back into a whole, and there – I felt the familiar warmth in my hand again.

Malfoy had not been bothering the trio at all, which was a huge plus. But this time around, he didn't bully Neville or his Remembrall – meaning I never became Seeker. This suited me just fine; I had to worry about the Stone too. Startling developments were falling into place, though. Ron had been mumbling suspicious things in his sleep. I now only used any loitering ravens to send letters – the whole Death thing. So Hedwig was out of work, and she accepted the post of Harry's permanent familiar.

I was doing very well in his Potions class, consciously trying not to piss Severus off and putting my best into my work. I got Severus to look at me as the son of Lily, not of James. Severus seemed to expect greater of me than the rest of the class. He gave me more complex Potions, et al. To the others, Ron especially, this looked like he was picking on me – which suited us both the best; Voldy was still at large after all. My Transfiguration was as good as my father's and my Charms as good as my mother's. DADA was on the other hand, a poorly thought-out joke. Boring theory, almost like History of Magic. I had to give it to Quirrell, he just blinked six times on seeing me alive the day after he tried to murder me, otherwise he gave no reaction. The castle ghosts seemed to smell the death in me, and had been gravitating closer and closer towards me, and most had taken to calling me, 'Master'. To my utter shock, I found that I could touch the ghosts. I resolved to ask Death about it later.

Thinking of Death started a whole new line of thoughts for me. Surely the whole skeleton thing was just a pretence. I already thought of Death as a rescuer and mentor, but now Death was slowly replacing the father he had claimed from me. I had several parts of my plan regarding the Horcruxes in place; but if anyone, mainly Dumbledore or Quirrell, looked into my mind, I was out.

So I approached Severus's office and knocked on the door. It automatically opened and I stepped in to see Severus grading homework – _ours_ , in fact – at his desk.

"Severus?"

"Yes, Harry?" Severus was wont to call me Harry in private.

"Could you teach me Occlumency?"

"Why? Tell me your reasons, Occlumency is not something to be taken lightly," Severus said, brow raised.

"Sev, please. I have too many secrets I can't risk Dumbledore or Voldemort finding out. I trust you know about Quirrell? Does Longbeard know?" When he nodded twice, I continued. "I want to learn to Occlude my mind from you because I trust you and I know you wouldn't pry into my secrets. I have lots of things to tell you, Sev, but only if both of us are protected. Please, Sev, please, please teach me Occlumency," I pleaded, throwing in, for good measure, Lily's puppy-dog eyes. A resigned sigh escaped Severus before he jerked his head twice, imitating a nod, and waved a hand, dismissing me.

After that I went straight down to Hagrid's hut. I made a show of catching up with him to disguise my true destination, and headed inside. Once I was a good way into the Forest, I summoned the resident Thestrals with my will. Once they were all assembled, I told them of my plan concerning he making of my new weapon. Wholeheartedly they agreed, but I told them I needed to find cold iron. One of the Thestrals, a stallion named Wither, did its horsey braying laugh thing in my face and told me (in my mind, of course) to ride him. I mounted him, Hedwig at my shoulder. He took me to a clearing in the forest – I suddenly realized this was where the centaurs lived.

"The centaurs do not take kindly to those who intrude upon their sanctuary, Wither," I warned him, "let us be off while we still can."

"There will be no need for that, Harry Potter." It was Bane. "The stars have told us that the Boy-Who-Lived would be visiting us soon. You need not worry about the Stone or the Dark One now. We know of your need for cold iron – here is a piece we have been saving just for you."

"I thank you, Bane," said Harry, hand over heart, and gratefully accepted the stone. "You have just eliminated a lot of trouble for me. I owe you; you need never hesitate if you want something I can do, done."

Bane inclined his head graciously, dismissing us. "Thank you, Harry Potter. We shall remember."

Wither flew me to the edge of the Forest. I had set out at twilight, and now the sun had just set. There would still be time. I made my way to the Founders' Graveyard – where the Hogwarts Founders and their families rested. There by the gates, just marking the entrance to a place where the dead rested, was a pair of beautiful elder trees. I went up to them and started feeling them all over. There was one branch which felt warm in my hand, and I broke it off. Wither took me back to the Entrance Hall and donated a hair from his tail, which I put into my pocket. Then he left (it was like he knew what I was going to do). Why couldn't Christmas come early? I had to lug around an elder branch seven floors up – from the Entrance Hall to the Room of Requirement – and the twins still had the Marauder's Map. What would Ron and Hermione say when I got back?

The Room morphed into a nice, cosy place at my behest. I willed a knife to appear and it did beside me. Using it, I carved a somewhat precise fifteen-inch rod. Now to make it look like an actual wand. From the top down, I slowly brought the flat of the knife down on it, moving it like a screw. There – wide at the base and narrow at the tip. I carved a few ravens encircling the handle. Other than the handle, the wand was completely smooth. But what was a wand without a core?

I cut the wand lengthwise into half (difficult, precise work, mind), and hollowed out a small hemisphere in the middle of each half. I took the Thestral tail hair from my pocket and levitated it wandlessly. Then I took the iron Bane hag given me, and melted it. Using magic, I kept it molten while moulding into a small sphere (the piece of iron was that small). Slowly I threaded the black hair through the centre of the sphere. Then I replaced the two halves of wood around the core. Now for the most difficult part.

I closed my eyes and imagined a bright white light encasing the wand. I imagined it going through the slits and sealing the wand from the inside out. I opened my eyes and beheld the fruit of my labour. This was going to be my unofficial wand. I willed for two wand holsters and the Room provided me with two old-fashioned but first-class ones. I started carrying my phoenix wand on my right arm, and my other wand in my right.

" _Tempus_ ," I said, for checking the time. It was about an hour to midnight. I'd better go sleep, then. I reached the Fat Lady and told her the password. "All you are all right? You look tired. Dilligrout."

"Just not getting enough sleep," she said with a pointed look at me, and swung out. I just grinned and went inside and upstairs, to my bed. I was just getting in, when –

"Harry? Where have you been?"

"Just the rest-room, Ron."

"Really? But you've not been here all day!"

"I don't see how it's your business, _Weasley_ , so shut up and go back to sleep." I swear, that brat was just getting more and more suspicious. I didn't want to risk destroying my new wand before destroying the old Elder Wand, so with my phoenix wand, I put a monitoring spell on Ron. The spell enabled me to see and hear what he did. With that done, I Disillusioned my second wand, and both my holsters, and went to sleep. 

The next day, after class hours, I went to Longbeard's office and knocked on the gargoyle's head. The door opened to the revolving staircase and I ascended. I opened the inner door and sat down by Longbeard's desk without invitation.

"To what do I owe the pleasure, Harry? Lemon drop?"

"Not the ones laced with Veritaserum or Calming Draught, please. Thanks. Sir, for the past weeks, I have felt an attraction to you." Longbeard appeared dumbfounded. I went on, "your wand, sir. It sings to me, and it's getting harder and harder to resist."

"Really? I shall think on it, while we discuss your next problem."

Now, that was surprising. I had practised Occlumency with Severus, and my shields were near-perfect. If someone were rummaging around in my mind, there was no way I would'nt know. But Longbeard hadn't used Legilimency. However, I continued.

"Sir, Ron has been acting odd lately. It's like he's spying on me and reporting to someone every night. He couldn't be under the Imperius Curse, sir?"

"Not at all, Harry, though I must say I am surprised you know all of this. No ordinary first-year would know."

"We'll leave that alone, sir, and thank you for not prying into my mind!" I snapped, reinforcing my shields in response to his attack of Legilimency.

"Occlumency too? Such knowledge is dangerous, Harry."

"Sir, listen, you have to destroy the Elder Wand, please. It's too dangerous! Riddle already knows about it, it's only a matter of time before he kills you for the wand!"

"Harry, such knowledge is dangerous. _Obliviate_!"


	7. Recovery

**Chapter 7: Recovery**

I found myself back in my bed. I cast my mind back, trying to remember where I had been. I remembered something to do with my trunk, Ron, and… a Thestral? I felt something on my arms. Rolling my sleeves up, I saw two wands – my phoenix wand and an other, which lacked all feeling, as though it was sleeping. Odd. But whatever. I looked at my timetable, and saw that I had Potions first. Well, the last thing I needed now was another detention. When I reached the classroom, something weird happened. I saw Snape, and I felt an irrational hatred. I remembered him insulting my father, insulting me, sabotaging my Potions and essays, and lots of other things. I gave him a contemptuous look and headed inside the classroom.

"Late, Potter? Five points from Gryffindor." The man had a sour look on his face.

I wordlessly went to my table – Ron and Hermione were already sitting there – I sat between them.

"Class just started, Harry, why were you late?"

"Dunno, Hermione. I just felt funny."

"OK, Harry. We're to brew a Sleeping Drought."

"Yeah."

For some reason, Ron kept shooting funny looks my way. I ignored him and got on with my Potion. Snape was glaring down at every Gryffindor's cauldron. Ron's and Hermione's he passed without a word. But when he reached mine –

"Fifteen points from Gryffindor. Did I not say that instructions are on the board? Look at the thirteenth line, Potter. Did you stir the Potion before adding the dragonfly wings?"

Draco snickered; Snape Vanished my Potion. "Detention, Potter, at six, in my office. I will teach you to read."

The rest of the day passed just fine. Herbology, Charms and Transfiguration classes had to be handled. Every teacher said I wasn't up to my usual mark. At six, I went to Snape's office, and found him looking concerned. Why was he looking at me like that?.

"Harry, what happened to you? Why are you off today?"

"Since when do you care about me?"

Odd – he looked genuinely hurt. He extracted his wand from his robes, and before I knew what was happening, he had cast several spells at me. A thoughtful frown came over his face.

"You've been Obliviated. There are walls in your mind that cut off access from certain knowledge and memories. Here, drink this," he said, getting to his cabinet and handing me a Potion from there, "it's a Memory Restorative Draught. It will weaken the mental blocks."

I emptied my goblet in one go, and almost gagged. It tasted like feet. Then, I slipped out the chair and landed on the floor, clutching my head.

 _I was making a wand out of three ingredients… I was walking into the Forbidden Forest…_

… _I saw a centaur, flew on a Thestral… Severus was teaching me Occlumency… Ron sleepily mumbling, "_ I'm going to get all of Potter's money when he marries my sister, Dumbledore's planned it all... Damn Mudblood… , _" … A white expanse, a skeleton in a red robe beside me…_

"That's it! Severus, I'm so, so sorry!"

Severus waved his hand. "Who Obliviated you?"

"Longbeard."

Severus swore – in Latin. "Well, the promise I made was to your mother, not that manipulative b–"

"Hey! I just remembered! Where's the bathroom?"

After Severus showed me to the bathroom and left, I concentrated on the fourth finger of my left hand – and there. Gold band, check. Black stone, check. Peverell coat of arms, check. Crack down the line showing the Elder Wand, check. It just appeared on my finger. But I also sensed a malevolent curse on it – the Curse of Death, the same one which attacked Longbeard. I joined Severus in his office.

"Severus, I know you owe me a life debt. It's already been paid in full, so don't stretch, okay?"

Severus was silenced. He could only stare. For his benefit, I summoned James and Lily using the Stone. They appeared right behind Severus and James winked at me.

"Sev, turn around."

Nothing could describe Severus's shock. He was gasping like a goldfish.

Lily said, "Severus, we can stay here only for a little time, so before I go, let me tell you something. You need to move on. I know you swore to protect my son. Thank you, Severus. You are so brave. James has something to tell you too, and I'm straining, so bye!" She waved and disappeared. James said, "Snivel - Severus. I release you from the debt you owe me and mine. I can only hope to be forgiven someday for what I did to you. Take care of my son. Harry, ask Severus to tell you about the Weasleys. Goodbye, my son, and Severus. Take care, both of you."

Severus said, mouth stretched in something between a grimace and a smile, "I forgive you, Pot– Prongs. Rest in peace."

James nodded and vanished.

"Now, young Potter, how did you do that?"

"Long story – this is the Resurrection Stone."

"But that's just a legend!"

"And it's also living right here on my finger. Don't bother touching it, it's got the Curse of Death on it. And no, I'm not going to tell you how I found it, unless you perform the Fidelius Charm. I will be Secret Keeper. And until you get the ward stones you have to wait. Thanks; and I've got to go now, so bye, Sev!"

Severus nodded his head and told me to "get out, you brat! and close the door!". Well, obviously the man would be shaken.

I had to put my plans in motion. Hopefully my weapon will be ready before midnight. I went down to the library, much to the astonishment of Madam Pince, and checked out some books on pass-keys and sealing and unsealing magic. Only a few hours later I was ready. To destroy Horcruxes Death said I needed a sword, and that the size of the blade would not matter. I went down to the Entrance Hall and summoned Wither. Wither took me to the Thestrals' home at the Forbidden Forest, and, in their eagerness to help me, all of them together gave me about a litre of blood (I wouldn't allow them to give me more). Then I went to the Room of Requirement – it was a replica of the Gryffindor Common Room. Time to get started with my weapon-making.

I drew a circle on the floor with my blood. I set the inactive Elder wand within it, and whispered the spell I had found in the book over it. Immediately grey iron started covering it – it was like the wood was bleeding. Then I said the other spell which I found in the library – from what I gathered, it was a variant of the Animagus spell. Then the iron-coated wand glowed a brilliant white that lit up the entire Room. When the light faded, the circle I had drawn out of blood was gone, and in the place where it had lain was a gleaming, straight grey sword longer than my leg, with a hilt and cross-guard of elder wood. No way I was going to be able to use it – it was too big and heavy for me! (Death said the amount of iron didn't matter – well, it was true.) But I decided to try it anyway. The moment I wrapped my hand around the hilt, however, the sword shrunk to just longer than my arm. Now this I could use. Provided that my spellwork had gone right, the sword should become a wand again if I willed it. I did, and it became a wand again.

It was useless in wand form, anyway. The original Elder Wand was still activated with the power of death. I popped out of the Room of Requirement and knocked on Longbeard's door. What was I going to do? I didn't even have a plan! Well, too late. The door opened, I stepped on to the moving staircase and hid behind the second door. The fool's glasses could see through invisibility magics. The door opened, and before Longbeard could realise what was happening, I had non-verbally Stunned him. Well, nobody would expect a first-year to cast non-verbally, but Longbeard could still think I was a Dark wizard. No matter. The original Elder Wand was in his robes. I stripped it of the special death magic that was supporting it and transferred it to my newly created wand. Then I snapped the old one in two – the Hallows couldn't be destroyed, and this might fool Longbeard into thinking that his wand was fake. I congratulated myself and headed to bed. Casting the time charm, I found that the time was just past midnight. This was becoming a habit. Well, whatever. I slept and dreamed of what Longbeard would face once he wakes.

Meanwhile, in the Realm of the Dead, the Lord of the Dead sensed a shift in the magic he sent to the living world, and suddenly felt a connection between him and the living world break and reform instantly. It couldn't be the Hallows?! What was the boy up to now?


	8. Reflections - A Longbeard Interlude

**Chapter 8: Reflections – A Longbeard Interlude  
**

A/N: To you guys: this chapter NOT from Harry's perspective. Also, please try to review! I can't address your problems if you won't inform me! Fine, that's done, now sit back and enjoy the show.

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Albus Dumbledore sat at his desk in his office after waking up and finding himself on the ground, face-down, with a nose that was broken _again_. While he made short work of healing it, he wondered what had happened to him. Quite obviously someone had Stunned him. But what for? Then suddenly a light bulb switched on in his head. What had Harry warned him about? Surely it had to be a cryptic warning about Voldemort coming after the Elder Wand?! Well, he had Obliviated the boy, it wouldn't do for his plans if the boy were to know of the Hallows – after all, the boy's Christmas present was a Hallow! And then there was the matter of him knowing magic way beyond most of the Aurors, leave alone the first-years! He had known about the Unforgivables too! Well, that and much, much more. Albus had seen fit to wipe all knowledge that shouldn't belong in an ordinary first-year's mind.

What Albus had neglected to even think about was Occlumency and Legilimency. Who would expect the boy to know of the Mind Arts? Albus had, naturally, naturally, cast a perfect, complete, flawless Memory Charm. The best kind that ever was, because a poorly cast Memory Charm could do lots of mental damage at worst, and permanently destroy targeted memories at best. Severus had weakened the effects of the Charm with a potion, and Harry's subconscious was able to take it from there. Quite obviously the boy had wanted to take ownership of the true Elder Wand – as was his right and duty!

Albus – who, very unfortunately, was incapable of reading the above paragraph – immediately discounted the possibility that Harry might be behind this. After all, he had wiped the boy's mind of his magical potential and certainly odd memories.

Albus got up from his desk and looked out at the grounds, through his window. For a fleeting moment, the thought crossed his mind that Harry had a disturbing knowledge of magic, well beyond his school years. But suddenly, he felt the Hogwarts wards flare, and one of the delicate spindle-like silver-bronze instruments on his desk chimed and puffed, letting him know that a blood ritual ha just been completed. That particular instrument kept tabs on Quirrell/Voldemort – oh yes, Albus certainly knew that Voldemort had taken over Quirrell's mind and body, and was trying to obtain the Philosopher's Stone. He had been waiting for the boy to try band defend Hogwarts from Tom – but was disappointed yet. Well, perhaps he would give the boy some time. It was only nearing Christmas, after all. Though, truth be told, the Stone at Hogwarts was a fake – a convincing replica, no doubt – but a fake nonetheless. The real Philosopher's Stone was protected under Fidelius.

He would wait, Albus decided. He would wait and see, and for now proceed with his plans concerning the boy. He had to mould the boy into the tragic hero, then when he got killed by Riddle, kill Riddle himself and take all the glory – also all his wealth; he could easily fool the public into thinking that Harry would have wanted all his assets (liquid or not) to go to him in the end. He was already paying the Weasleys to manipulate the boy's life. He needed a way to get all of Harry's assets soon. Otherwise, the Potters' trust vault would be empty by the time Harry turned twenty-one.

Sighing, Albus shook himself free of his recollections, and decided to check what happened to the Elder Wand. To his utter shock, he found it broken, clearly in half, held together just by a single jet black hair! It couldn't be a fake! It just couldn't! But the Hallows were adamant, indestructible! But perhaps Gellert did not actually have the wand after all. He had just won a fake over. Yes, that would make sense – this was only a poor replica. Gellert was capable of great magics, and Albus greater, there was nothing to do with the wand. Yes, that made sense. If so, he needed to trace the true Elder Wand's history backwards, and start again, from Arcus and Livius. Lots of research again.

Well, Albus still had much to plan out for the wizarding world. He had to deal with the incompetent minister, and the ever-watchful Minerva. He also had to replenish his stock of Loyalty Potion – he was going to start administering them to Minerva and Harry. Those two honestly couldn't see the greater good. He summoned Severus and gave him his instructions, and dismissed him. He was a busy man – jobs to do, people to manipulate, trials to influence, et al. You could even say that it was Albus who placed the Confundus Charm on Barty Crouch Sr. to deny Sirius a trial. The weight of the world rested on his shoulders.

Well, he had to put the next part of his plan into motion. The wards in the room where he kept the Mirror of Erised had tingled – meaning that someone had entered the room. He had a funny feeling it was Harry. The mirror showed one's heart's desire, so the boy would surely return. He wanted to see the boy's innermost desire. He had to see if the boy was Dark, whether he could still be moulded or not – or whether he had to be treated. Well, he would go there the next evening.

Albus gave a contented sigh as he gazed out the window and saw the grounds, covered with the lush green grass he remembered from his years of studying at Hogwarts. Hogwarts would be his final resting place. He would live for some time yet, pass on his extensive knowledge, die as a hero, and be put to rest at Hogwarts.

No matter that he had forcibly bound a phoenix to him to increase his standing as the Bastion of the Light. No matter that he had put a boy, the Chosen One even, through the same childhood that was suffered by one Tom Riddle Jr. He was Albus I-have-too-many-names I've-seen-everything Leader-of-the-Light Dumbledore, and the world just had to obey him.

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/*  
*A/N: There. Change of perspective to that of Severus Snape's. Enjoy.  
*/

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Severus had been summoned to the Headmaster's office to take on the secret duties of 'Illegal Potionmaker de luxe for Albus P.W.B. Dumbledore Himself' once again. He had thought _that_ job would be out by the time the first war with Voldy was over – but boy, had he been more wrong. Add to that Longbeard's wand had been snapped cleanly in two – although getting a new one was easy as anything – Longbeard wanted Severus to find out which hero (in Severus's eyes) did it. Severus had a nagging suspicion that it was "the Potter brat", but Longbeard dismissed his "vague suspicions", as he put it, with the same old reasons. Well, Severus would comply this time – but Longbeard beware, Severus was loyal to _Harry_ , not Longbeard. Though the old coot seemed to have forgotten that for the time being (and that suited Severus just fine).


End file.
